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Tim watched as Kojo veered off his original course to pick up the tennis ball that he’d thrown and galloped over to a flock of ducks pecking their way around the edge of the pond. Next to him, Lucy laughed, watching Kojo’s tongue loll out of his mouth as he leapt and jumped, driving the ducks into the air with a frantic flapping of wings and panicked and indignant quacks. He looked over, smiling a bit himself as he watched the play of the afternoon sun on her features. He tightened his hold on her hand and turned back to watch his dog chase away the ducks.
Well, all but one duck. This one, a little bigger than the rest, seemed determined to return to its hunt for water weeds and bugs, and would flutter up only high enough to escape Kojo’s clumsy jump attempts before settling down again to its snack.
Panting now, Kojo stopped to reassess the situation. The duck eyed the dog but kept eating. Kojo hunkered down and crept closer, stalking the smaller animal. Unconcerned, the duck shifted slightly so that its back was turned and dug a little deeper into the muck at the edge of the water.
Kojo was now only a few feet from the duck. “Tim, do you think we should do something…?” Lucy murmured, and he nodded, pursing his lips to whistle a recall.
At that moment, the dog lunged, and the duck whirled, flaring out its wings and turning it from an object no bigger than a football to a threatening entity. The duck darted to one side, jutting out its sharp beak and snaring Kojo’s nose as the dog cantered past.
Kojo’s yelp of surprise and pain echoed throughout the grounds and as the dog came barreling up the hill to be comforted by a sympathetic Lucy, Tim watched the duck ruffle its feathers back into place and continue nosing at the ground.
Fortunately, the dog’s only injury was to his pride, but he seemed in no hurry to return to the park, and Tim jogged off to find the lost ball.
When he returned, Lucy was on her phone. “Thanks, we’ll be there asap,” she said curtly as she hung up and shoved the mobile back into her jeans. She frowned at Tim. “Patrol brought in three suspects matching our description from the standoff yesterday. Lopez wants us in immediately to ID and take statements.”
Tim sighed and looked down at Kojo as he considered the logistics.
Lucy took the leash from his hand and clipped it to the dog’s collar. “We’ll just drop him at my place until we’re done. It’s much closer.”
“You sure?”
She nodded. “Yeah. He’ll be fine. He’s familiar with the apartment and we’ll be back in a couple of hours.”
Tim hesitated, then winced as his phone vibrated in his pocket. Angela, likely wondering if they were on their way. “Okay, let’s go.”
*****
It had taken over four hours to get anything valuable out of the suspects and put them through processing, and when Lucy told Tim she had a frozen lasagna in the freezer with their name on it, his stomach growled so loudly that it echoed in the hallway leading up to Lucy’s apartment and she laughed.
“I hope he’s okay,” Tim muttered worriedly as Lucy worked on the lock.
“He’s fine. He had water and a long walk beforehand. He’s probably drooling all over my bed, just like he usually does when he stays with me.” She used her shoulder to push open the door and stopped halfway into the apartment, staring in disbelief around her.
Tim leaned his head over her shoulder to take in the damage. Small tufts of white fluff covered almost every surface of the living room, dusted into drifts together with what looked like tiny white foam beads.
Kojo stood in the living room, his heavy front paws on the couch and his tail wagging as he peered over at them. Dangling from his mouth was the head of a … stuffed duck?
“Oh no,” Lucy said sadly as she crossed to the dog. Pleased, Kojo gently deposited the slimy cloth head onto her hand and she looked between it and the dog with a frown on her face.
“What is it?”
She sighed. “It’s nothing. Not really,” she said, but she seemed upset, so Tim set an arm around her shoulders and waited. Eventually, she tossed the head aside and curled into him. “It’s stupid.”
“It’s not stupid if you’re upset. Tell me,” he urged, gently pushing her to sit next to him on the couch.
She shot him a small smile before she finally continued. “We had just graduated from the academy, and John and I were out at the Santa Monica Pier.”
Tim suppressed the sudden stab of jealousy in his gut when he realized that her mentioning Nolan without also mentioning West meant that they’d likely been on a date at the time. He took a breath, reminding himself that what they’d had was over, and consciously turned his attention back to her story.
“We got into a bit of a friendly competition at one of the stalls, showing off our marksmanship skills. And I totally kicked his ass,” she smirked, looking up at him, and Tim smiled back, proud. “I won this giant bear. It was bright yellow and almost the size of me, and John couldn’t stop laughing as he watched me try to walk down the pier with this massive fluffy teddy bear in my arms. He stopped me to take a picture and we propped the damned thing up on the railing. But right after he took the shot, there was this huge gust of wind and it just - blew right out of my grip and over the side. I’m not sure what was in it, but it sank out of sight before I had a chance to look over. I never saw it again.” She sighed.
“The duck was his, for getting second place, and he gave it to me without a second thought, as a consolation prize. It was really sweet. It’s been kind of a running joke between us ever since,” she finished.
Tim looked between the shredded toy and the dog. “I guess Kojo took one look at it and thought it was the same one who poked him in the park today.”
Lucy shrugged. “Guess so.”
“Well,” Tim said, standing up and pulling Lucy with him. “Let’s get that lasagna in the oven and clean this place up. And then tomorrow we’re going to Santa Monica and we’re gonna get you a new one.”
Lucy raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know, Tim, you’re pretty competitive, and those games are rigged…” she trailed off.
He scoffed. “Listen, baby, if Nolan can win you a piddly little duck, I think I can do much better than that.”
The eyebrow was joined by the other one. “You are only proving my point here.”
He opened his mouth to deny it, but then caved, pulling her close to peck a chaste kiss to her full lips. “Are you really gonna stop me from trying to win a prize for my girl?”
Lucy rolled her eyes. “Are you trying to win it for me, or to prove something to yourself?”
Got him. He smiled. “Why not both?”
She slapped his chest gently before stepping away. “Just for that ridiculous masculine display, you can do the vacuuming.”
*****
Lucy pulled the last piece off the stick of her corndog and chewed contentedly, enjoying the sunshine from their spot on the bench. Tim held his own empty stick loosely in one hand, draped between his jumping knees. She laid a hand on his thigh to calm the nervous twitch and he stilled. He looked away from the crowds to see her smirking at him.
“You done yet? Let’s get this show on the road.”
She chuckled. “Are you so eager to lose?”
Tim scoffed. “They didn’t make me a sharpshooter in Iraq because my aim sucks.”
Lucy rolled her eyes as she pulled him to his feet. “Whatever, Bradford. Remember, these things are rigged.”
“We’ll see about that,” he said darkly, tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow as they headed for the midway.
They strolled over to the shooting gallery, where Tim handed the attendant a few bills. He took up his air rifle, half listened to the man’s instructions, and then settled the gun against his shoulder. He glanced over at Lucy with a grin. “Ready?”
She rolled her eyes but smiled back. “Go for it.”
He set his stance and adjusted his grip, then aimed, and took a breath.
PFFT!
He’d missed. The little aluminum duck cutouts continued on their track, unmolested.
Resituating the gun on his shoulder, he took aim again, and fired.
PING!
“Aha, gotcha, you little stinker,” he muttered under his breath before taking aim once more.
PFFT!
Feeling the irritation start to rise in his gut, he tensed his jaw and tried again.
PFFT!
“Son of a…” He leaned back for a moment and glared at Lucy. “You know these are rigged, right?” he muttered, and felt a flare of irritation when she rolled her eyes and smirked.
*****
Two hours in, they’d made their rounds of the midway, and Lucy was beginning to flag at his side. Her bag was stuffed with a variety of small plush animals, and occasionally she would reach down to run a gentle finger over the tentacles of a sparkly sequined octopus of which she was particularly fond. As they drew close to the shooting gallery for the third time, the attendant caught a glimpse of Tim’s thunderous face and hastily slipped around back, throwing up a scrawled “Back in 5 min” sign on the counter.
“Babe,” she pulled at his elbow, “can we get a drink and sit for a minute? My feet are killing me.”
Tim looked between her tired, sweaty face and the abandoned stall for a moment before nodding and pointing her to snag an empty seat. He stalked away and returned a few minutes later with two tall cups of lemonade, their sides pebbled in condensation. Lucy looked up at him with a wide smile as he neared and patted the space next to her on the bench invitingly.
She accepted the cool drink with a kiss to his cheek and they sat for a moment in silence, sipping at the tart beverage.
“You wanna tell me what this crusade is about, then?”
Tim looked over to find Lucy watching him. He sighed. “It’s nothing.”
“Uh-huh.” She put on her skeptical face.
“Okay, it’s not nothing. But it’s stupid.”
Lucy waited.
Tim sighed again. “Look, we’ve been doing this,” he waved a hand between the two of them, “for a couple of months now and- and I’m so happy, Luce,” he said, looking at her earnestly. “I’m so happy and I wanna tell everyone about you. But we can’t. And it’s like, when I’m with you, even when we’re at work and nobody knows, everything is great, because you’re there and I’m there and whatever it is, it’s real, right?” He shook his head. He wasn’t great at articulating these kinds of things, and Lucy’s frown told him she didn’t really understand where he was going with this.
He tried again. “But when we’re not together, it’s like we never were. Aside from Kojo’s crap at your place, there’s no physical evidence anywhere. No pictures, no toothbrush in the cabinet, or, or bobby pins in the sink. And sometimes… sometimes it’s hard to convince myself that it’s really real.” He stared down at his hands, worrying his thumbs roughly against each other.
After a moment, Lucy leaned forward to place a hand over his. “We are real, Tim. We are,” she insisted, tightening her grip momentarily. She shifted next to him and he looked up to see her leaning into him. Tim closed his eyes as she pressed her lips to his, breathing her in. There was a distinct click, and he opened his eyes suspiciously.
“Did you just…?”
Lucy lowered her phone, smiling. “I’m making you some evidence.” She raised the phone again, at arm’s length. “Let’s get another one of us smiling.”
Tim wasn’t sure that the dazed relief on his face counted as a smile but Lucy seemed satisfied with the photo and after she tapped away for a second he felt a vibration in his pocket as she sent the images to him.
Lucy leveled a look at him that told him he was about to get lectured. “So all of this started with a duck?”
“You haven’t been secretly dating Nolan for years, and yet he still has something at your place.” He could feel a blush rising up his neck and he looked back down at his hands.
Lucy chuckled. “He also gave me a small home tool kit and a frying pan,” she said, nudging him with her shoulder. “But what he doesn’t have, which you do, is those blue lace panties that you like, stuffed in the back of your drawer. And your gray sweater, which is under my pillow.”
Tim looked up in surprise, and Lucy smiled at him fondly before continuing. “And yeah, if you look in your cabinet, behind the cotton swabs, you’ll find a few bobby pins.”
He leaned forward and kissed her before smiling into her mouth. “I think I might be in love with you,” he breathed, not allowing himself to freak out at what he’d just shared.
Lucy laughed again and draped her arms around his neck to pull him closer. “I think I know that, even without a duck,” she said, kissing him again. She pulled back and stood, holding out a hand to haul him up. “Shall we go?”
Tim hesitated. “One more try?”
Lucy rolled her eyes but smiled. “Okay. One more try.”
Hand in hand they walked towards the shooting gallery. The attendant watched them approach warily, but accepted the bills that Tim handed over and gestured to the guns lined up on the counter.
Before Tim could pick one up, he felt Lucy’s gentle hand on his arm. “May I?” she asked, looking up at him through her lashes.
Her look was confident, and fond, and he felt comforted by her touch. She was here. She was his. This was real. He nodded, stepping back. “Be my guest.”
With a gleeful grin and a bashful tilt to her head, Lucy picked up the gun, set her stance, and sighted. Breathing deeply and slowly, she tightened her finger on the trigger and fired.
PING!
PING!
PING!
PING!
PING!
Tim watched in amazement as the little ducks flattened in quick succession. The attendant threw up his hands in genuine pleasure as Lucy set down the gun. “We have a winner! The lady gets a prize!”
Lucy smiled over at Tim, lacing her fingers through his, before she confidently pointed at her selection. “That one,” she said, and Tim laughed as the attendant hooked it down and brought it over.
It was a giant plush version of a yellow rubber duckie, bloated and overstuffed, straining at the cheaply-sewn seams, and it was nearly the size of Lucy as she pulled it with difficulty into her arms.
She grinned at him as she set her chin into the top of the duck’s head, and then, with a small bow, she presented the duck to him. “A prize. For my man.”
He took it, blushing again, and then tugged Lucy closer to kiss the top of her head. This time, when she pulled out her phone for a selfie, he managed a real smile.
*****
It was nearly dark by the time they pulled into Tim’s driveway, and they could spot Kojo at the window, his stubby tail wagging so hard that his entire back end followed suit.
When they stepped through the door, Tim dropped the duck on the floor so he could balance while taking off his shoes, and Kojo froze at the intruder. Lucy and Tim shared a smile and watched silently as Kojo crouched, cautiously creeping forward to inspect the new addition. Finally, sniffing furiously, he booped his nose into the tip of the duck’s beak and jolted backwards as if expecting a bite. When nothing happened, he stretched forward again and offered a tentative lick.
Tail wagging again, he sat down and regarded Tim steadily. Tim looked over for Lucy’s okay, and then turned back to the dog. “You want it? Okay, you can have it.”
Ever so gently, Kojo closed his mouth over the duck’s neck and dragged it from the room.
Tim wandered into his bedroom an hour later, ostensibly to take off his watch and charge his phone, but really it was to open his top drawer wide enough to catch the flash of satiny blue tucked into the back corner and smile.
He looked over at the dog, happily asleep in the middle of his bed. He’d hauled the duck up with him, and was using it as a pillow.
Lucy appeared behind him in the doorway and he looked over. “Are you staying tonight?” he asked, shutting the drawer.
She smiled. “If that’s okay,” she murmured. She rummaged for a moment in her bag, which was slung over her shoulder, and pulled out a small travel case with a toothbrush poking out the side. “I was wondering if I could keep this here?”
Tim grinned. “Please do.”